


That One Time Clint Lived in the Vents at Stark Tower for Three Months and No One Knew

by Era_Penn



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adorable, Crack, Developing Relationship, Drinking, Fluff, Food, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots, Insecurities, Living in air vents, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Prompt Fill, casual stalking, food ninja, late night tv, mystery food deliverer, puzzle, slightly OOC, unidentifiable food origins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-27 23:18:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5068726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Era_Penn/pseuds/Era_Penn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony was pretty sure there was a ghost living out its afterlife in his kitchen. He thought it must have moved in approximately two Thursdays ago, and it seemed to really enjoying cooking - especially Italian - and crappy Chinese takeout. It also seemed to be very friendly, as it always left a note that said something along the lines of ‘for my generous host’ or ‘leftovers are Tony’s, NO ONE EAT’ on top of the food.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hyouden](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyouden/gifts).



> [Chinese translation](http://www.movietvslash.com/forum.php?mod=viewthread&tid=188647&highlight=%CC%FA%D3%A5%20): NOT AO3.

Tony was pretty sure there was a ghost living out its afterlife in his kitchen. He thought it must have moved in approximately two Thursdays ago, and it seemed to really enjoying cooking - especially Italian - and Chinese takeout. It also seemed to be very friendly, as it always left a note that said something along the lines of ‘for my generous host’ or ‘leftovers are Tony’s, NO ONE EAT’ on top of the food.

As he said, it started on a Thursday, about two months after the Avengers fought the Chitauri. Tony had been working steadily on a project for SI in his workshop, humming along to The Black Keys, when Jarvis had cut in.

“Sir, I’ve lost the cameras in the kitchen,” the AI informed him in alarm. 

Tony sat up at once, wincing at the crick in his neck before checking to see what day it was; Thursday. Three day binge, ugh, he’d collapse soon, and he was starting to feel vaguely nauseous. Odd, he hadn’t actually eaten in that time, except a couple protein smoothies. Stretching, he headed for the door to walk up to the kitchen, ignoring Jarvis’ protests. He was Iron Man, he really doubted anyone would be stupid enough to break into his tower. Besides, the suitcase suit was in the kitchen from last time he wanted to work on it and Pepper had ordered food for him.

Arriving at the kitchen door, Tony warily peeked inside.

“Cameras restored. Running systems check,” Jarvis’ most electronic voice echoed in the kitchen itself.

Tony frowned. Why take them down for such a short period of time just to bring them back online again? He edged into the room, eyeing the floor for any traps.

That’s when he registered the divine, mouthwatering scent of fresh Indian cuisine. Specifically, Chicken tikka masala, smelling spicy enough to burn. His eyes fell closed and he opened his mouth slightly, as if to taste. Opening his eyes, he located the takeout container sitting on the table and moved forward blearily.

“Sir, wait!” Jarvis protested.

Tony ignored him. The note on the lid said “for Tony” after all. Not like he would turn down a gift that smelled so perfectly delicious. Locating a fork (on top of the takeout box), he immediately dug in, groaning in delight. The flavors burst on his tongue, burning just the right amount and washed down with mango lassi. 

He groaned in delight. “Jarvis, make note of the takeout box, this is _amazing_ ,” he mumbled, and took another bite. The whole meal was gone before he knew it, and he stumbled his way to bed, vaguely noting that Jarvis had his vital signs pulled up on the wall before he fell asleep.

Tony initially thought it was a one-off; food in the kitchen, sleeping for the whole night, waking up feeling human. Weird, one-off.

Except the next day, at about eight o’clock, Jarvis caught a loop that had been running on the kitchen cameras for just over two hours. Now Tony was _curious_ , and that meant he _had_ to go see what was up. So he closed down the project he was working on (armor upgrades), and made his way up the stairs again, this time much more alert and awake. 

This time, there wasn’t a takeout box waiting for him. Instead, the dishwasher was running, and a tupperware full of spaghetti was steaming on the table, along with a basket of breadsticks that looked and smelled homemade. Tony immediately decided that, next to metal and grease, homemade bread was his favorite scent. It wafted through the air, making the room smell like a bakery. Next to the tupperware was an index card, with a hastily scrawled “Tony” across the top and a recipe underneath. Tony glanced through it, unconcerned - he didn’t have any allergies.

“What the hell,” he eventually said, bemused, and moved forward to eat the food. Now that he was more awake, he was aware that it probably wasn’t the best idea to eat the magically appearing food, but if it hadn’t killed him last time, it probably wouldn’t this time. 

Despite Jarvis alarmed, “Sir!”

Tony hesitantly wound the spaghetti up on a fork and slurped it down. He sighed in delight. The spaghetti was practically gourmet, and after the first bite, his hunger made itself known. He devoured the spaghetti in the bowl and sat back, satisfied, after about half the pasta and all but one of the breadsticks. Sticking the leftover pasta in the fridge and putting the breadstick in the cupboard Pepper kept stocked with bread products, Tony yawned, looking at the clock. “Put on a movie, Jarvis?” he asked, making his way to the living room and sprawling out on the couch.

Jarvis obeyed, oddly silent about the new turn of events. Tony’s eyes drifted shut as the movie reached its halfway point. He was warm, and full, and totally content. He didn’t know who was leaving food in the kitchen, but it was kind of comforting to know that someone else was around. Even though he had no idea why, how, where, or who.

Wow, he thought as he started drifting off to sleep, I must be a lot lonelier than I thought.

* * *

After a few days of mystery food and the most regular sleep schedule Tony had experienced since… ever, really, despite the generally nightmare-induced wake-up calls, Tony’s curiosity kicked in full throttle. He had a mysterious food ghost/ninja/whatever living in his Tower somehow, and he was going to catch it.

He started basic; just trying to get a look at his mystery friend. Tony hid several small spy cameras around the kitchen, ones he had gotten past even SHIELD’s radar on occasion. They were miniscule, disguised as screws on cupboards and refrigerator magnets. 

All of them ended up dysfunctional along with the usual kitchen cameras. Tony cursed up a storm as he went through the coding used to accomplish the feat without so much as bumping into any of Jarvis’ other cameras or abilities. The code was very simple, and it shouldn’t be working, dammit!

So the next thing Tony tried was more of the same, with bonus firewalls. It had no effect. It was as though the food ninja watched over his shoulder when he created the new network security, considering the ease with which they navigated the tricks and traps in his coding. This was getting ridiculous!

His plan of catching the reverse-food-thief on camera failing, Tony promptly moved on to step two. Catch the ghost/ninja/whatever.

None of his traps worked. The auto handcuffs attached to the dishwasher were picked, the ceiling cage neatly avoided, the maze of mousetraps undisturbed, the frying pan net sliced into perfect squares, woven back together, and laid across the table like it was some sort of demented decoration.

He could probably catch his guest if he went more lethal - weapons were his specialty, Tony thought bitterly - but he didn’t really want to. He was curious, not angry.

* * *

So it continued. Almost every day, the cameras in the kitchen would malfunction somehow and Tony would race upstairs to try and catch the mysterious food ninja, to no avail. The spaghetti popped up again twice, and Chinese take out at least three times, but there was often something new to try. Tony had particularly loved an odd zucchini, cheese and potato casserole that appeared one night. He had also enjoyed the one time his food ninja left him an apple pie. 

Tony loved it. Tony had always loved food, but there were more important things than making sure he ate regularly. He had things to build, futures to shape, people to persuade he was an idiot, that sort of thing! He spent way too much time pretending he never did anything to properly cook for himself. Suddenly, he was eating at least one solid meal every day (often two, the food ninja made awesome coffee and toast). After two weeks, Jarvis had stopped protesting Tony’s excitement at the meals and had begun approving of the whole thing. After three, Tony had the sneaking suspicion Jarvis was helping sabotage Tony’s attempts to catch the food ghost. Tony suspected this was because somehow he ended up actually sleeping at least every-other night, full and happy on the couch in his living room.

He still woke up from nightmares regularly, too, but Jarvis was just pleased he got any sleep at all. At least, that’s what Tony assumed from the lack of protest Jarvis put up. That or Jarvis knew who the food ninja was, which, rude.

* * *

Clint moved into the vents of Stark Tower on a Monday, without a single word to anyone. Including the owner of said tower. He couldn’t stand staying on the helicarrier anymore, surrounded by the accusing stares of old friends and allies, friends of the dead. He couldn’t handle the empty office where he retreated to hide, devoid of familiar suits and smirks. He couldn’t stand in the range and shoot a rifle anymore.

So he ran away. Problem was, he couldn’t bring himself to ask the other Avengers if he could stay, either. He’d caused them just as much trouble as he’d caused most of SHIELD, if not more. Tony had almost died when the helicarrier went down, and Hulk had gone overboard. He didn’t deserve any help from them. He figured Tony wouldn’t mind if he took up residence in the vents, though. No one else was using them, and they were pretty nice vents - all reinforced and dusted regularly by funny little spider-like robots that examined him carefully before apparently deeming him a new friend. 

Of course, living in the vents was really boring, so he explored them and started following Tony around the building in them. He didn’t mean to start stalking the genius, it just sort of happened. Clint wasn’t very good at it anyway - he kept falling asleep while Tony worked in the workshop. He’d wake up and Tony wouldn’t appear to have moved, either, so that was good at least.

It didn’t take Clint long to realize something was wrong. Tony seemed to survive off of coffee and the occasional box of takeout. The billionaire only slept when his body physically gave out underneath him, and usually on the couch in the lab, which looked less than comfortable. He worked, 24/7, seven days a week. Tony went to crazy parties and pretended to get drunk, only to come home and work some more. He sat through board meetings that mostly consisted of a bunch of old guys subtly abusing the man. 

The only ones the genius interacted with properly were Pepper, on rare occasions, and his robots - Jarvis for mental health and the bots for hugs. The silly little robot Tony called Dummy kept feeding the engineer dubious shakes. Clint didn’t like it. Tony was a pretty cool dude, a fellow sarcastic asshole. He should take care of himself better.

It was a Thursday when Clint came up with a brilliant plan to repay Tony for letting Clint live in his vents (unknowingly, but that was hardly the point). Clint very carefully hacked into the kitchen cameras, careful not to damage Jarvis, and ninja-dropped a box of takeout from the Tandoori Oven into his kitchen, quickly scrambling back up into his vent to peek through the cover. 

After a few minutes, Tony stumbled into the kitchen just as Jarvis announced that the kitchen cameras were back online. Clint almost gave himself away when he saw the genius, feeling the urge to drop down and give him a giant hug.

For a forty-something man who’d been to hell and back on multiple occasions, Tony looked adorable. He’d thrown on a hoodie, and his ratty jeans were stained with oil and grease. The exhausted billionaire hadn’t left the workshop in the last three days. Tony swayed lightly on his feet, blinking at the food on the table with wide eyes that fell halfway shut as he sniffed the air. His lips parted softly and he licked his lips as a hand came up to absently swipe at a small grease stain on his temple. 

He then proceeded to devour the take out without questioning its presence at all. Clint had to agree with Jarvis’ vague panic and monitoring of Tony’s vital signs. That just wasn’t safe. Tony was lucky Clint was living in his vents, really. Clearly he needed someone to take care of him.

Clint was considerably less worried once Tony’s attempts to catch him started. Who the hell set up a dishwasher to automatically handcuff anyone who tried to turn it on? And the cage falling from the ceiling was a stroke of genius, Clint barely avoided that one. At some point, it all turned into a game - take care of Tony without getting caught for as long as possible.

It was quite possibly the most fun Clint had experienced in years. So it continued. Slowly, Tony’s weight went up to a more normal one and the shadows under his eyes lightened, despite the constant nightmares the man experienced.

Overall, Clint would say his venture was a success.

* * *

To say Tony Stark was bemused when he walked into his kitchen to find Nick Fury staring in confusion at a takeout container was an understatement. The attached note this time said, “Tony’s. Eat on pain of death.”

“What do _you_ want?” Tony asked, cross. He opened the container and stuck a fork into the sweet and sour pork, eyeing Fury distastefully. 

“We’ve lost Barton,” Fury said.

Tony’s eyebrows shot up on his forehead. “Come again,” he said eventually, and took a bite of his dinner.

“We lost him, and we aren’t sure where to find him.”

Tony chewed, swallowed, and let his mouth hang open for a minute. “Are you telling me you misplaced an Avenger?” he said at last.

Fury’s mouth thinned and he didn’t respond. “Barton was last seen jumping off of the helicarrier with a duffle bag and a hang glider,” he informed the billionaire. “All attempts to find him have met with failure. Not even Widow’s been able to locate him.”

“I’ll see what I can do, but only because you asked so nicely and Barton seems like the kind of guy I could get along with.”

“God help us all,” Fury muttered, and swept out, cape making him look like an oversized bat.

Tony stared at the takeout container in his hand with dawning realization. Seemed his guess about it being a food ninja rather than a food ghost may have been more accurate than he thought. “Barton,” he said at last, “why, exactly, have you been living in my ventilation systems for two months?”

He heard a choked squeak above him. Bingo.

“I mean, I don’t really care, because quite frankly you’re cool and I like food, but you do realize I have like, five guest bedrooms on this floor alone, right?”

He heard a foot scuff against the ground behind him and turned, an eyebrow raised. Sure enough, Clint Barton stood behind him, one hand rubbing the back of his head. “Sorry,” the archer mumbled.

Tony blinked. “For what?” he asked, mystified. “Food!”

“...So all it takes to get into your good graces is good food.”

“Pretty much. Especially when I don’t need to do anything to get it,” Tony said. He looked at the archer, who was covered in dust but still somehow smelled really good, like something woodsy and mellow. “At least you’ve been showering,” Tony allowed, and took another bite of his takeout. “Also, there’s an archery range two floors down, if you want to go use it sometime.”

Clint gaped for a long minute. “Aren’t you going to tell Fury?”

“Why the hell would I do that? He’s a dick.”

Clint finally broke into a wide smirk. “I knew we’d get along.”

Tony hummed.

* * *

Not much changed after Tony found out he was living in the tower ventilation system. Clint moved into a guest bedroom on Tony’s floor, and stopped trying to hide when he cooked, but initially, that was the only difference. 

The first time Tony plopped down at the counter while Clint was cooking, he almost dropped the pot he was carrying in shock. 

“I’m hungry,” Tony whined.

Clint rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that’s why I’m cooking.”

Tony brightened at once when he responded. “Do you want any help? I can at least chop things without burning the building down.”

Clint pointed wordlessly at a small pile of vegetables on the nearby cutting board. “Wash your hands first.”

Tony obeyed, and got to work, quietly chopping vegetables while Clint got the rice started for the stir-fry he was planning to make. 

“I’ve got it!” Tony exclaimed suddenly, and abandoned the vegetables to run off. Clint stared after him. 

“Jarvis, what just happened?”

“Sir was stuck on a project, so he came up to discuss it with you,” Jarvis replied, sounding amused. “However, I believe he was distracted by the food.”

Clint grinned and went back to cooking, asking Jarvis to play some music. Tony started coming up to help and chat a lot after that, and he only ran off in the middle because of some crazy idea about half the time. Clint was pretty sure that made them friends.

* * *

“Clint, hey, Clint! Come here, come on -”

Clint allowed himself to be dragged down the hallway towards the workshop. Tony’s face lit up in an excited smile and wearing nothing but a tank top and tight jeans… it would be like kicking a puppy. A sexy puppy. Wait, what?

“Look, I made you a thing!”

Clint leaned forward to look at the hologram Tony was excitedly prodding and his eyes widened. He’d needed to leave his SHIELD issue bow behind, so he’d been using a standard bow on the range. Displayed in front of him though was one of the most beautiful works of art he’d ever seen.

“Oh, wow,” he breathed, and reached out to trace the shape. “What’s her draw weight?”

Tony started listing specs, naming arrow designs he was working on so Clint could have some fun…

Clint resolved to start ninja-dropping lunch into the workshop now that he knew Tony was cool with him coming down here, and barely resisted kissing the other man full on the lips.

* * *

Clint wasn’t just cool, Tony decided, nor was he just a good cook. Clint was _amazing_. Why the heck was he hanging out with someone like Tony, anyway?

Tony wanted him to stay more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life. He stopped sleeping around in case it would bother the archer, started designing Clint new equipment, hid the other man from SHIELD. He didn’t even tell Pepper.

Instead, he watched as Clint cooked, enjoying the flex of his arms and the dimples of his smile, the way his eyes softened when Tony stumbled up after a couple of days in the workshop (which was really rare now, actually). He snarked back at the archer, hell, Tony lost a couple of sarcasm battles. They played Mario Kart and watched movies, and went out in disguise to get coffee.

Clint’s intelligence surprised Tony. He’d expected the archer to be smart, but now that he could associate the beautiful coding used to disrupt the cameras with Clint Barton, he found himself drooling over the man even more. Not only a sexy body but a sexy mind, Tony could never deserve someone as good as Clint Barton.

To bad he’d gone and fallen in love with him anyway.

* * *

“Mr. Stark.”

“Director Fury.”

“Any success locating Agent Barton.”

“He’s fine. Just avoiding you and all the pathetic agents of SHIELD who don’t seem to believe in brainwashing. You seem to have some internal prejudices, Fury.”

“Where is he?”

Tony hummed noncommittally. “I do believe that is none of your business.”

“He is an employee of SHIELD!”

“An employee with over a decade of vacation time saved up.”

Fury glared. 

“Get out of my home, Fury.”

He left with a sweep of his cape. Outside the other door to the kitchen, Clint let his head fall back against the wall. Apparently, vacation was over.

* * *

“You’re packing.”

Clint turned to find Tony standing in the doorway of his room. “Can’t stay forever,” Clint said, shrugging.

Tony’s face fell. “Why not?” he asked.

“There’s work to do. And Fury’s not going to leave you alone until I report back.”

“Don’t care, really. He’s not going to leave me alone anyway.”

Clint shrugged, zipping his duffle bag closed and striding past Tony towards the elevator. “See you around.”

“Yeah…. see you.”

* * *

Tony was pretty sure he was drunk. Really drunk, if the three...four...three bottles on the floor next to him were any indication. Dammitt, he knew it was too good to last. He was _Tony Stark_ , he didn’t get to have good things.

Clint was definitely a good thing.

“Jesus, Tones!” 

“...Rhodey?”

“Dude, what’s wrong?! Pepper said you’d been doing better, eating and sleeping and everything -”

“He left. Rhodey, I want him to come back. I didn’t want him to leave.”

Rhodey frowned. “Him? What?”

“If I may,” Jarvis cut in, and Tony let his eyes fall closed. He was tired. Jarvis could explain.

* * *

“Barton.”

“What the HELL did you do to my best friend, Barton?”

“What - who is this?”

“Colonel James Rhodes. I would like you to explain why I just found Tony drunk beyond belief and why Jarvis seems to think it’s your fault.”

“Hell ‘f I know,” Clint mumbled, downing his shot and signalling the barkeeper for another.

“Are you drunk too? Goddammit, you’d better fix this, Barton - you can’t just make someone fall in love with you and then leave -”

“Wait. Repeat that. I could’ve sworn you just said Tony was in love with me.”

“That’s because I did! You two goddamn idiots -”

Natasha took the phone when it slipped from his fingers. “This is Agent Romanov. I’ve got this one if you’ve got the other one. Yes, they are both idiots… Huh, so that’s where he went when he disappeared.”

* * *

Natasha dumped Clint into bed next to Tony and stood back with a smirk. When he woke up from the fabulous haymaker Rhodey had delivered, Clint would probably be delighted. Based on what Rhodes said, she doubted Tony would mind either.

“Damn idiots,” Rhodes hissed. “Why do I always get stuck with the insecure but pretending not to be ones? Oh God, they’re going to be unbearable…”

Natasha winced and agreed. “Bet they’re nauseatingly adorable for the next year at least,” she said.

“That’s a sucker bet,” Rhodes grumbled, leading the way out of the tower. They both deserved some really good coffee and a vacation for this.

* * *

Tony woke up and snuggled into the warmth next to him, determined to fall back asleep until the hangover wore off. The warm thing laughed, though, and his eyes shot open.

Clint smiled at him, amused.

Tony squeaked and promptly moved to give the archer his space. One toned arm around his waist trapped him. 

“We are both idiots,” Clint said clearly, and kissed him.

Tony brain froze, then melted, and he kissed Clint back, desperately. It wouldn’t last. Clint would realize Tony was a nuisance as a lover and leave, but he would enjoy this while it lasted.

“Relax,” Clint whispered. “I’m not going anywhere. I only left because I thought I was annoying you in the first place.”

Tony made a noise he was pretty sure sounded like dissension, brain still offline.

“Yeah, Rhodes pretty much cleared that up for me,” Clint said.

“Rhodey?”

“He was pretty pissed at me, actually. Not that I blame him.”

Tony frowned and looked Clint in the eye, finally noticing that one of them was framed by an interesting mix of yellow and purple skin. “Ow,” he said.

“Totally worth it. Hey, I made waffles, if you want some.”

“With whipped cream?”

Clint leered leaning in close to Tony’s ear. “Of course,” he breathed. “Want to try it out?”

Tony squeaked.


	2. Bonus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...This might be more like T+ rating.
> 
> Also it's ridiculous.
> 
> Fair warning.

“You’ve been in your workshop for days, Tony.”

“Please, Clint…”

“I’ve been so lonely.”

“Aaanh… Please, just give it to me…”

“I don’t know. You’ve been naughty. I don’t know if you’ve earned it yet.”

“Please, Clint… mmmh…”

Tony strained against the rope holding him to the kitchen chair. “Please, Clint, I want it…”

“Are you going to lock yourself in the shop and deny me access again?” Clint demanded, holding the forkful of waffle just out of Tony’s reach. The strawberry syrup gleamed, dripping down onto Tony’s chin, the whipped cream a beautiful blob on top of the crisp golden batter.

“No, I won’t do it again… pleeeease…”

Clint relented, lowering the forkful of deliciousness into Tony’s waiting mouth. He whined high in the back of his throat, relaxing as he chewed and swallowed.

“Jesus, are the waffles really that good?” Bruce asked from the doorway, smirking. Steve stood right behind him, redder than a tomato.

Clint smirked as Tony nodded vigorously.

**Author's Note:**

> The first of the prompt fills for you guys! Thanks so much for helping me out. I'll try and post at least one fill every week.
> 
> Not quite 5k, sorry, but I might add a short chapter later from the other Avengers' pov or flesh out some of the middle bits a little more.
> 
> Original Prompt: 
> 
> I like anything with Tony angst, especially having to do with him not eating/sleeping enough. I prefer him paired with Bucky, Clint, or Coulson, though really anyone noticing and taking care of him makes me happy :) ---Hyouden


End file.
